


drown in me one more time

by Marishna



Series: earth and history [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Come Shot, Creeper Peter Hale, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Masturbation, Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, One-Sided Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, POV Nogitsune, Partial Mind Control, Possession, Public Masturbation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scents & Smells, Season/Series 03, Stiles Stilinski's Name is Mieczysław, The Jungle (Teen Wolf), Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 05:39:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11052465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: It was so open and ripe for the taking.  So many opportunities for mischief and mayhem.  The power was intoxicating.But it couldn’t drown out the bitter self-loathing rolling off Peter in waves.





	drown in me one more time

**Author's Note:**

> I don't foresee anything else coming of this universe, fyi. Never say never but I don't have any further ideas for it. I like playing in Stiles/Peter when I want to get dark and that doesn't happen very often. 
> 
> Day 30 I'm in you and Day 31? I'M COMING FOR YOU (uh, no pun intended?).

It was too easy.

The one Mieczyslaw called Peter skulked around in corners and slid into shadows to avoid detection but it would take more than a werewolf to trick a trickster. Mieczyslaw’s reactions at seeing what happened to him were very helpful in navigating this new world. 

It was so open and ripe for the taking. So many opportunities for mischief and mayhem. The power was intoxicating.

But it couldn’t drown out the bitter self-loathing rolling off Peter in waves. The wolf either forgot how to mask his own chemosignals or he didn’t care who he broadcasted to. A dangerous thing for such a cocky predator to leave them exposed by. 

Another opportunity. How exciting.

Mieczyslaw’s body was weaker and less muscled than Rhys’ but he was also a soldier at the height of wartime while Mieczyslaw was a spoiled youth who’d never known true pain. Or pleasure, for that matter. 

The club brought up mixed emotions for Mieczyslaw but also triggered a low-grade arousal that clouded his mind when left unchecked. He was a slave to his baser instincts but with Peter in the mix that would work very well, it was decided.

They played a drawn out game of cat and mouse, but the prey didn’t realize he was being stalked and backed into a corner. 

This would be fun.

Mieczyslaw’s blood sang through his veins when his erection was freed and stroked, practically begging to be touched, caressed, and fondled as precome drooled from the tip. His refractory period was a work of art and his body never quit, no matter how much it was put through. That was enough to make him hard anywhere at any time. 

Peter seemed to appreciate the effort if his own straining erection was any indication. He made no move to hide it as he stood in his usual place in the backroom of the club, music barely muffled by the cement walls painted a garish shade of something called Day-Glo paint. 

So many of these people deserved more than harmless pranks.

Peter watching was getting boring, though. Already three nights passed as Mieczyslaw’s body was brought off time and again, even when his orgams wracked his body painfully because it was too much at once. Peter merely watched and grew increasingly tense until his werewolf eyes flashed and--oh.

Blue eyes.

No wonder he hated himself so much. So much potential in so little time.

But if Peter didn’t come to play a new game would have to be devised. But idle hands were supposedly the devil’s playground and Peter was already sporting a hard line in his dark pants as he stared openly from across the room. No point in wasting a toy that wasn’t played out yet, after all.

Mieczyslaw was angry, bringing up images of angry yelling and vicious brutality but that tasted like freedom and spiked the scent of his arousal. The anger was tinged with desperation and exhaustion married with hopelessness at the edges. 

Soon, Mieczyslaw. Soon.

In the meanwhile, Peter would have to suffice. 

Despite Peter’s unceasing staring, it was surprisingly easy to sneak up on him, tricking his gaze with the dim light and shadows and a hint of magic to create a subtle distraction off to Peter’s right. When his eyes shifted forward again he had Mieczyslaw directly in front of him. He didn’t blink at Mieczyslaw’s state of undress.

“Stiles,” Peter drawled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?’

“You’ve been watching me,” Mieczyslaw was forced to reply. “Did I give you enough to see?”

Peter’s calm confidence faltered and he smelled confused and curious and wary. Tempted. He smelled tempted. 

“You’ve been putting on quite the shows,” Peter agreed. 

Mieczyslaw’s cock twitched, a reminder of an unfulfilled desire. A rough tug didn’t satisfy the need but it was enough to make Peter’s eye twitch. 

Now there was a wicked thought. 

How would he react if Mieczyslaw was close enough to breathe the same air, inhaling his thick scent of arousal and potential. Within touching distance but unsure if it was okay to lay hands on his body.

Peter never stood a chance; in the blink of an eye, Mieczyslaw was in his personal bubble as the heady feeling of rising to the top of the ultimate rollercoaster. Peter would probably be very good at making Mieczyslaw scream as he sailed over the edge but that wasn’t the purpose tonight.

The sound of hand on cock was a slick, sticky sensation, punctuated by jerky inhalations. Unable to ignore it further, Peter looked down and licked his lips at the open and clear view of Mieczyslaw jerking himself off. Maybe he wanted to join in and add his own hand to see how it felt. Was the weight of Mieczyslaw different than his own cock? Would it feel warmer? Would he gutturally moan Peter’s name and give the sad man something to use in his own wank sessions until the day of his pitiful death? 

It didn’t matter. The climax was swiftly approaching to the entire sordid affair and Mieczyslaw’s body was hunching in on itself minutely before his cock pulsed in warning and then ejaculated messily. Peter’s shirt and pants bore the brunt and if that was on purpose, well. It was. 

Peter stepped back when he realized what happened, staring at Mieczyslaw with… what was that? Confusion? Yes, but it was more than that. Not quite hurt but--yes. Betrayal. There it was, that first crack that was so satisfying.

Mieczyslaw stepped forward, crowding Peter again. “Now you’ll always have a part of me.”

It was tempting to stay behind and watch that crack deepen in what was remained of Peter’s heart but this round was won, the black knight felled. 

Time to play with the king.


End file.
